


Like a Traditional Viking

by Chess_Blackfyre



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Humor, Viking AU, darcystevemonth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4982428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chess_Blackfyre/pseuds/Chess_Blackfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Darcy kidnapped her husband like any good, traditional Viking.</p><p>No longer a oneshot, but I'm sorry but this is kind of on hiatus right now</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Viking AU. This has been sitting in my computer for quite some time. Decided to post it for Darcy/Steve month. Hope you like!

The Vikings of Midguard didn’t have thralls, they were above that, but that didn’t stop them from selling monks on the slave market from time to time. Yeah, double standard but they had to make some surplus money because their chief-to-be Thor insists on showering his new wife Jane with everything shiny he can get his hands on. Plus, monks were dicks, always looking down on their beliefs. There was only so much ‘you’re going to hell heathen’ a girl can take.

 

Said girl? Darcy, daughter of Lewis. So when the time came to line their pockets again. Darcy let the raid to a Monastery in Ireland. It was close, not to far inland, and certainly wealthy. Their gods could be distant, but they weren’t greedy… most of the time. Anyways, Vikings were doing as Vikings did and raiding. Besides, they lived in the bloody middle ages what in Hel else was there to do for fun?

 

The Warriors Three burst in eagerly which sent most of the monks screaming. It didn’t take long for Loki to trick them into their boat, while Sif and the Warriors played who can destroy the most. Now, normally Darcy would play along with them, but at the moment she ignored them as she stormed into the treasury--Like she said, greedy god, greedy servants of said god needed a place to put it—only to find a young monk there, armed only with a staff.

 

She blinked.

 

He blinked in return.

 

The monk was a little over five feet tall. Pretty, too, with gold hair, big eyes, and probably a big heart too if he was back here trying to guard the treasure instead of sensibly running away from the lady with the big-ass axe. Or maybe he was just really stupid.

 

He started fidgeting. “Could you please stop staring at me?” Darcy blinked. He spoke their language. Well, that ruled out stupid...for now.

 

"Wait, you're not going to hack me in half?"

 

"Not in the middle of a conversation, that'd just be rude."

 

“So, are you going to do?” He seemed almost...hopeful. For what though, she wasn't sure.

 

“We’re just going to take your gold, valuables, livestock… Oh, and you.” She decided. “Definitely you.” He was rather pretty...for a man. And considering he was pulling off that robe pretty well she couldn't _wait_ to see what was underneath it.

 

 _“What?”_ He squeaked out, looking somewhere in-between aroused and scared.

 

“Do you have something against running away?” She asked with a coy smile, slinging her battle axe over her shoulder and smiling. He was, well, small. And thin, Darcy was sure _Jane_ was stronger than him, and the woman's most strongest muscle was by far her brain.

 

“You start running they’ll never let you stop. If you stand up and push back—“

 

“To a girl with an axe?”

 

“I didn’t know there were lady raiders. I just don’t get why you’d want to be a raider if you were a beautiful dame—er, a woman. A warrior, not a dame. You are beautiful, but—“

 

“You have no idea how to talk to women, do you?” she raised an eyebrow.

 

“I think this is the longest conversation I’ve had with one.” He smiled. She smiled back in return

 

“Explains why a guy like you would become a monk.”

 

“A guy like me?” He asked, a bit confused.

 

“Handsome, duh.” He blushed beet red, and it was by far one of the cutest things she had seen. Darcy decided to screw it. She found him first and therefore she had the right to do whatever she wanted to him! He was _hers_ now.

 

“I won’t sell you,” She declared passionately.

 

His smile widened and the blush receded. “Thank you.”

 

“I’ll marry you instead.” He then choked but had no time to protest as Darcy took advantage and captured his lips for her own. The staff landed with a clatter on the ground. They were clumsy and inexperienced but he was a quick learner, and that just made her more joyous to know she would be the first and _last_ woman he would ever kiss.

 

She then happily tied him up and hauled him over her shoulder. As she announced where the treasure was, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg gawked at her while Thor burst into laughter and Sif raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

 

But no matter, she was sure she and…

 

“Oh, what’s your name by the way?”

 

“Stephen. But my friends call me Steve.”

 

She was sure she and Steve would get along famously.

 

And that was how Darcy kidnapped her husband, like a good, traditional Viking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back!
> 
> And so is this story, by popular demand.
> 
> I don't own, etc. etc. You know the drill

To be quite honest (and he was always honest) Steve wasn’t entirely sure what was going on.

One minute, he was ‘guarding’ the treasury, the next he had received his first kiss from a pagan, and was now supposedly engaged to said pagan. Oh, and he was thrown over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Wow, getting married. Not exactly what he was expecting when he joined a monastery. Or when he was shoved into the hidden treasury with nothing but a staff and a prayer. Why had he joined up with those milkweeds again?

Oh yeah, because both his parents were dead, no way he could join the army, and he could get three meals a day. Not to mention his artistic skills wouldn’t go to waste as he would literally draw pictures for a living (not that he ever got paid but seriously, it was the dark ages, you took what you could get).

As they made their way through the half destroyed village, he got to know his betrothed a little bit better. Darcy was strong, brash, and lively. A welcome change from the sour, silent men who were constantly shushing him and praying. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that this could actually be a good thing.

Well, he could have lived without the kidnapping part. Or her being a Viking. Or her, you know, helping destroy his hometown. But, hey, the there were worse fates. Like dying at the hands of said Lady Viking. (That’s not something he would be fond of explaining to St. Peter: ‘So, a lady Viking killed you? Don’t worry we’ll still let you in but you’ll be laughed at for all eternity’).

When they reached the boat he saw a tall, blonde man counting his newly stolen wealth. And a familiar looking dark haired man that was tied and gagged. Someone Steve knew very well.

‘Bucky!?” He asked in their native tongue.

Bucky spat out the gag. “Steve!” he gasped. “They got you too?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged as Darcy placed him onto the boat. “She kind of blindsided me with a marriage proposal.”

“This your friend?” She asked, indicating Bucky.

“Yes, Darcy Lewisdottir, meet James Buchanan.” He introduced in both languages. The two figures eyed one another before Darcy went up to pick out her share of the loot.

“But you’re a monk.” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow. James Buchanan was the youngest son of the local lord. They had grown up together, Steve’s mother being one of James’ family nurses.

“I haven’t actually taken the vows yet.” It explained why his ‘lovely golden locks’ as his fiancé called them, hadn’t been cut yet. Plus, even if he had, something told him it wouldn’t really matter to Darcy.

“At least you got a charmer,” Bucky grumbled. “My girl just grabbed me without so much as a ‘how do you do’.”

“Quiet.” Said black haired woman told them. He vaguely recognized her from when Darcy had carried him out of the monastery.

Not half an hour later, they were shipping off.

Steve still wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but whatever it was, it was going to be interesting.


	3. Set Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mostly consists of a conversation between Steve and Darcy. It's mostly set up for this little world I made.

The first day of their sea journey had been…trying, to say the least. Between going back and forth between Norse and Celtic, dealing with Bucky’s less than complimentary rant about their new fiancés’ and awkwardly avoiding eye contact with the other kidnapped monks, Steve was mentally exhausted.

 

Darcy was helping…and also wasn’t. On one hand, she was always a friendly face he could turn to, giving him a bright smile whenever they locked gazes. On the other hand, every time she did smile at him, he would lose his train of thought and ‘smile like the village idiot’ according to Bucky.

 

Steve hadn’t slept under the stars since Bucky’s father had taken them on that disastrous hunting trip. Bucky puked, his dad cried, they had been chased by wolves…it had been a rough couple of days.

 

Despite this negative association, he was actually having a rather nice time. As the sun had set, he and Darcy had inched closer and closer to one another until he was sitting between her legs as they were huddled under her cape/cloak. It was red and trimmed with wolf’s fur.

 

“So, my betrothed, how was your day?” He asked, once they were comfortably settled. He felt her shrug against his back.

 

“I met you, so, pretty good so far. We got to burn stuff, which is always fun.” And a little scary, but Steve wasn’t about to bring that up. “I love sailing, and our navigator expects that it should be a mostly smooth journey home.”

 

“So, where are we headed?”

 

“Our village, Midgard.”

 

“Tell me about it.” He said, wanting to know all about what the hell he was walking into.

 

“Well, it’s located on an island north of the continent. We should get there in less than a fortnight. Our current jarlessa is Thor’s mother, Frigga. Thor’s the big blonde guy.”

 

“What’s a jarlessa?”

 

“Like a jarl, but a woman. Usually the jarl’s wife. Odin was our last one.”

 

“Jarl? Like an earl?”

 

“I don’t know what that is, but sure.”

 

Steve thought how he could explain it. (Something told him he’d be doing a lot of that). “Thor’s going to be the one in charge of everyone else.”

 

“Yes. And see that little scrap of green and gold?” She gestured to the dark haired man who seemed to be the youngest one there. If Steve had to guess, he would put the Viking around nineteen. “That’s Loki, Thor’s brother.” Then she leaned in close to his ear. “He’s adopted, it’s not a secret. Still, we don’t talk about it much.”

 

Her breath on his ear sent shivers down his spine. Steve cleared his throat. “And those three?”

 

“Volstagg the Valiant,” she indicated the redhead, “Hogun the Grim,” the older, stone-faced one, “and Fandral the Dashing.” The blonde with the goatee. “The brunette sitting next to your friend is Sif.”

 

“Sif. That’s a…pretty name.” He tried to compliment. After all, she had just kidnapped his best friend.

 

“I wonder why they’re just staring at each other.” She wondered aloud.

 

“Does Sif speak Gaelic?” Steve asked.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Then it’s the language barrier. Bucky doesn’t speak Norse.”

 

“Why not? You can speak Norse.”

 

“One of the brothers at the monastery had been a missionary in the North. I’ve always been good with languages, so he taught me.”

 

“Truly? How many do you speak?”

 

“Um, including Gaelic? Norse, Latin, French, and a bit of Greek and Hebrew, but I’m told that my pronunciation is horrible.”

 

“Say something in one of them.” She asked.

 

“Um…any preference?”

 

“Anything really.”

 

“Okay.” Steve thought a moment. _“I’m really worried that this marriage isn’t going to work out and you’ll end up hacking me in half with your axe. You probably won’t do that because you seem like a very nice person but I’ve heard tons of stuff about Northmen and I’m not sure which of it is true and I’m afraid to ask.”_ He let out in a long string of Latin, then winced, hoping that none of the other monks had heard that.

 

“Pretty.” Darcy said, not understanding a word of it. “You’ll have to teach me some of it sometime. We could smack talk people to their faces and they’d have no idea. It would be great.”

 

“So…what will your family have to say about this…betrothal. You do have family, yes?” She nodded. “Won’t they have a problem with you marrying…not a Viking?”

 

“Thor and Loki are my cousins. As Thor married a woman from England, he can’t exactly go around saying things like that. Nor would he make it his business to.” She shrugged.

 

“I was talking more about your parents. Won’t they have some sort of say in this?”

 

“They’re dead, so probably not.” She said with a shrug.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He amended. He had never known his father, but lost his mother to consumption less than a year ago.

 

“What have you to be sorry for? For bringing it up? You didn’t know.” She gave a weak shrug. “Besides, they’re in Valhalla now, drinking and feasting with the gods.”

 

“Sounds like a party.” Steve gave a weak smile. “Then who do you live with?” He didn’t want to insult her, but he was more than just a bit curious.

 

“I have my own house.” She informed.

 

“Really? Um, that’s…interesting.” He realized he should probably explain. “In Ireland, it’s normal for people to just live in the same house as their relatives.”

 

“I needed my own space once Thor married Jane. Wooden walls only muffle so much. Besides, I’ve kicked Thor’s butt enough times that everyone knows better than to try and tell me what to do.”

 

“Truly?” He asked, wondering about the warrior-maiden. (Please Mary Mother let her be a maiden, not that he was judging but he was a virgin and was probably going to embarrass himself).

 

“Truly. When Thor began to learn how to use a shield, I demanded to learn alongside him.”

 

“And they let you?”

 

“Of course, shield-maidens are equals in battle. Plus, if you keep half the population from fighting, you’ll have half as much an army.”

 

“That makes…A lot of sense.” He admitted. He’d never really thought of it like that. “Darcy, even though I’ve only known you a little while, but you are brave, strong, and have a good family. So… why exactly do you want to marry me?” He had to bring it up at some point.

 

She turned him around in her lap, faces quite close to each other. Steve began to feel himself blush as her eyes looked him over. _She had such pretty eyes._ “You are brave, and have a good heart. With your lovely features and my strength, we would have fine warrior daughters.”

 

Even though he could speak six languages, Steve had no idea what to say.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve cannot seem to avoid the awkward today.
> 
> I decided to add some 1940’s slang in there because…why the heck not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, I know that it's been awhile, but I've been busy with work and life in general. Most of this chapter is the product of the work of an early morning, so there may be a few mistakes. Hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!

“I can’t believe it. Darcy Lewisdottir is getting tied down.” Loki said over lunch the next day. The sun was high in the sky and they were over a patch of calm water, so they had decided to take a break.

 

“I like blondes.” She shrugged, tearing off a piece of bread then handed the loaf it to Steve, who tore off a piece and handed it to Bucky. Bucky inspected it for a moment, tore off a piece, then handed the piece to Sif. Sif stared at him for a moment before practically shoving the bread down his throat. (Since no one was in the mood to be throttled, they pretended to ignore it.)

 

“Really? Is that why we never worked out?” The younger Odinson brother asked.

 

“No, we didn’t work out because you’re kind of a prick sometimes and have daddy issues out the wazoo.” She put simply. He pouted while the others laughed.

 

“…what’s a wazoo?” Steve whispered to Darcy.

 

“It’s…well—“ She slapped him on the behind. “That.” She smirked and gave a saucy wink. Steve rubbed his bottom and blushed beet red.

 

Everyone burst out laughing again. Steve was sadly used to this, but at least he got the feeling that they were laughing more at the situation then at him.

 

It wasn’t until they started sailing again did he realize that the other monks had seen the whole thing.

 

“When the time comes, just lie on your back and think of Ireland.” One of the older brothers stated out of the blue.

 

“…what?” Steve said, not understanding.

 

“The heathen who’s taken you to be her sex slave.”

 

“ _What?!”_ He all but yelled. All the heads turned towards him. Steve had a sudden urge to jump into the sea. So he merely sat down next to the kidnapped monks and went: “ _What?”_ This time a whisper.

 

“The devil woman, she obviously means to defile your virtue once we reach land, just as the succubus is sure to defile Sir James.” He gestured to where said sir was attempting to flirt with Sif. It wasn’t going well. Probably the whole language barrier thing, he’d have to get on that.

 

“Okay, couple things. One: don’t call my fiancé a devil-woman when she could easily chuck you into the ocean. Second: that so-called heathen is my intended so I would appreciate it if you laid off the insults. Third: James is engaged to Sif. Or maybe just kidnapped, I’m not sure I haven’t worked up the nerve to talk to her yet.”

 

“Ahem.”

 

Steve turned. “Oh, hello Lady Sif.” He greeted. The warrior woman looked over the monks for a moment, then looked at Steven.

 

“I was wondering…perhaps you could,” she gestured between herself and Bucky, “…interpret?”

 

“For the two of you?”

 

“Yes.” She nodded.

 

More than happy to leave the humiliating monk conversation, Steve went to play translator for a couple of hopeless betrothed.

 

“Steve.”

 

“Bucky.” He greeted, sitting down next to his friend. Sif just kept standing there, definitely imposing but still a bit awkward. “You remember Sif.”

 

“You mean the succubus with the lovely eyes who’s going to steal my virtue?” He smirked. Steve took a deep breath and bowed his head.

 

“You heard that?”

 

“ _Everyone_ heard it. Though I must say, the ‘lie back and think of Ireland’ bit is rubbish. With a dame like yours—“

 

“Bucky!” He stopped. Had the heavens conspired against him this day?!

 

“What did he say?” Sif asks.

 

“He thinks you have pretty eyes.” He decided diplomatically.

 

“Oh,” Sif looked away, a light blush on her cheeks. “Tell him…tell him he has…nice hair.” She decided, clearing her throat.

 

“She says she likes your hair.”

 

“She’s cute when she blushes.” Bucky smiled. Sif smiled back.

 

“He says you’re cute.”

 

“Oh. He is…cute as well.”

 

“She says you’re also cute.”

 

“Cute? Cute?! I’m not cute I’m classically handsome!” Bucky boasted. Steve lifted his eyes to the heavens and sighed.

 

“You sure you wanna marry this maroon?” Steve asked, indicating his friend. “You…do wanna marry him right? I’m just going off of what Darcy said earlier.” He carefully asked.

 

“I’ll keep him as a…companion at first. We do not keep thralls. Unlike Darcy, I’m not one to just throw myself at the first piece of ass I like.” What was it with Vikings and profanity? At least Sif’s insults towards his betrothed seem to be teasing instead of malicious. “If in a year, I do not wish to chop his head off, then perhaps.”

 

“What’d you say?” Bucky elbowed him.

 

“First, ow.” Steve rubbed his ribs. “Second, I just asked her if she really wanted to marry a palooka like you.” He teased his friend. “Surprisingly, she still said yes.”

 

“Wait…she actually wants to marry me?!” Bucky said, looking a bit surprised.

 

“Um…yeah. If you’re not a total jerk.”

 

“Punk.” Bucky shot back. “Well this changes everything! I just thought she was gonna ransom me or whatever. Maybe a bit of the wink wink nudge nudge if negotiations lasted long enough.” Steve just gave him a blank look.

 

“We’re at sea. We’re heading for their homeland, if they were going to ransom you, they would’ve stayed close to shore. Hate to break it to you Buck, but she’s just interested in your dashing good looks.”

 

“Is she now…?” Bucky looked up and flashed his best grin. Sif simply raised an eyebrow, then gave a weak smile of her own. “Well this changes everything! I’ll have to speak to her father about the dowry, get negotiations set up…you think we’ll get our own house or…?”

 

“What’s he talking about?” Sif asked.

 

Steve just smiled. “He likes you.” He wouldn’t be rambling on if he didn’t.

 

Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so horrible after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally get to Midgard! Steve is still an awkward little Irish just trying to stave off a panic attack!

Turns out, the trip was still horrible. As if the monks giving him ‘advice’ and his betrothed touching his…behind every chance she got wasn’t enough, Bucky was determined to ‘properly court’ Sif, which included a horrible rendition of a Celtic love song that ended up with Sif throttling Bucky because she thought he was talking about another woman. (Top notch translation there Steve). Then, after explaining the error, Sif throttled Bucky again out of sheer embarrassment.

 

Point was, Sif’ go-to response with Bucky seemed to be throttling. And the fact that Bucky seemed to be weirdly into it wasn’t helping Steve’s blood pressure. Oh, and there was also that one time where Steve found out he was marrying into a bunch of crazy people and got extremely seasick all in the same afternoon.

 

Long story short? They’d ended up sailing into the middle of a storm, and Vikings fucking loved sailing in storms.

 

The Vikings also had to drop off the monks at the thrall market on the mainland. That had been…awkward, to say the least.

 

But, after all of that they arrived on the shores of the small island of Midgard—not soon enough for his liking, but Steve was used to the heavens not giving a shit for what he wanted.

 

They were greeted at the docks by a throng of people, old and young. As they landed, children rushed out to meet their parents, as spouses went towards each other. Not the polite, customary welcomes he’d seen exchanged between nobles, but true affection. The people returning were genuinely glad to be home, and those welcoming were genuinely glad that those that had left hadn’t died in a ditch somewhere.

 

Steve wondered being on the other side of the welcome. When Darcy returned home from raids, would he welcome her with such open enthusiasm? He was an honest man, if nothing else, and could never deceive his wife by pretending to feel something he didn’t. He was then pulled from his thoughts by Darcy.

 

Literally. She threw him over his shoulder, jumped off the edge of the boat, and then ran to shore.

 

“JANE!” Darcy yelled, and then all put pile-drived a pregnant woman dressed in furs. She had mousy brown hair, and while shorter than most of the people there, yet still held an air of importance and authority.

 

“Darcy, always nice to see you.” Her eyes went to the monk over Darcy’s shoulder. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

 

“Oh, right.” She carefully set her beloved down. “Stephen of Ireland, meet Jane of London. Jane, this is my future baby daddy. Steve, this is Thor’s wife and the coolest person I know.

 

“Jane? As in the King’s own niece Lady Jane who was carried off by raiders?” He winced, realizing that was a bit rude. Darcy must be starting to rub off on him. But in his defense it had been the talk of Britannia! The King of Essex had sent his niece, Jane, off to France to be married, when her ship was attacked by the fastest boats anyone had ever seen. They’d stolen everything valuable and disappeared into the waves, leaving the survivors to limp back to Essex with quite a story to tell.

 

“We prefer to think of it as ‘surprise engagement’.” Darcy offered.

 

Jane and Steve offered her a blank look in return. Knowing when to pick her battles, the Viking returned to the ship to get her luggage.

 

“Yes, I am she.” Jane replied to Steve’s previous query. Her Norse was still a bit accented, but barely noticeable.

 

“My lady,” he bowed, “then I fiercely apologize for my rudeness.”

 

She gave a soft smile. “No such need for those titles here, Stephen.” The woman dismissed, though she still held the air of a noble.

 

Which lasted for about another two seconds before Thor swept her up in a large embrace. “Jane!” He exclaimed, peppering her face with kisses. Steve looked away, feeling embarrassed. Turning his attention back to the boat, he could see that Sif and Bucky were in a bit of an argument. From the looks of it, Bucky wanted to help her carry her portion of the loot, but Sif insisted on carrying it all herself. The thought crossed his mind to intervene, but he really wasn’t in the mood right now.

 

Scanning the crowd, he also saw the youngest Odinson, Loki, walk up to a woman with red hair and brown eyes.

 

“What the hell is the matter with you?” She hissed. All confidence drained from him instantly.

 

“Ah…” the silver-tongued Norseman seemed speechless for once.

 

“I was actually worried about you; can you believe that? After that mess with your father and Sigurd, you just vanished, you weren’t here, you weren’t at your homestead—I had to find out from your mother that you went on the raid! Unbelievable.” She huffed out.

 

“That’s Verity.” Darcy informed, sneaking up on Steve. “Loki’s completely in love with her and has no idea. It’s fucking adorable.”

 

“She seems quite…lively.”

 

“She’s the only one who can instantly see through his bullshit. Or anyone’s, really. Ironic, for the trickster to fall for someone who he can never trick.

 

“ _Stephen! Steve_.” Jane had bid him in Latin. “ _While the Norsemen—and women—are quite different from what you and I are used to, they are fundamentally good people_.”

 

“ _Good people who seem to concern themselves with raiding and pillaging_?” He couldn’t help but ask.

 

“ _The land isn’t fertile enough in the north for much to grow. Not much to trade either. Their gods aren’t as kind as the God of Abraham_.”

 

“ _So, you’ve…_ ”

 

 _“No, I believe that I am still a Christian at heart. And like our Lord Savior, I would encourage you to keep an open mind_.” And with that, Thor took off with his young, pregnant bride. For some reason, Steve was reminded of a puppy with a stick.

 

Darcy was carrying a sack over her shoulder, and a chest under her arm. “Come along, my love!” She bade, and he followed after.

 

After a mere five-minute walk from the main village, they arrived at Darcy’s homestead, and Steve’s new home. It was located in a small clearing between the forest and the sea, and looked rather sturdy. As he inspected the inside, he found that it was sparse by way of decoration, but still cozy—with enough room for children, should they…uh…

 

It had a nice kitchen.

 

Despite his masterful subject changing, the thought of not only children, but of his and Darcy’s future weighed on Steve’s mind. Sure, she liked him now, but what about in a year? What in two years? What happened when his sickliness and general lack of physical ability grate on her nerves that she decides he’s not worth it any more?

 

He ventured the subject after they were done eating. From what he saw at the monastery, discussion was always better when bellies were full.

 

“Are you sure that you want to marry me?” He posed the question. Darcy looked up from her bowl of boiled mutton with a look of mild surprise.

 

He was seriously asking this? She wouldn’t have carried him off and declared her intentions to all if she wasn’t sure. “I’m sure. You’re sweet, kind, brave, and you have a good head on your shoulders.” He looked down, embarrassed by an honest compliment, but returned his gaze to hers. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out, we could always just get divorced.” She said, completely nonchalant.

 

He sputtered. “Divorced?”

 

“Yeah, do they not have that in Ireland?” She tilted her head in curiosity.

 

“Sort of, but it’s not really allowed.”

 

“So even if the two hate each other, they have to stay married?” She looked surprised and just a bit disgusted by the notion. And, as Steve tried to look at it from Darcy’s perspective, he supposed it was to her.

 

“They swore vows before God and the Church. They’re expected to keep them until death do they part.” He explained.

 

“Well that just sounds unreasonable.” Darcy pouted. Steve silently disagreed, a vow was a vow.

 

“So I take it that there’s no such stigma here?”

 

“Not really. We all realize that people change, and people can make bad decisions. Besides, say a marriage is done as part of a peace treaty, if war breaks out anyway, why have two enemies stay married?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“Plus, there were all the murders.”

 

He nearly chocked on his mutton. “…the what now?”

 

“The murders. You know, when you keep two people who don’t love each other in the same house for twenty years and finally someone just snaps and—“

 

“No, I get it.” Focus on breathing. _Focus on breathing_. “So…more divorce equals less murder. I can…I can see why you’d do that.” Change the subject. “So…um, where will I be sleeping?”

 

“With me, obviously.”

 

Cue the Irishman’s abject internal screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, yeah, sorry with the long delay! I hope this is still funny!
> 
> Verity Willis is an actual character from Marvel Comics. She debut in the Loki: Agent of Asgard run. There's a lot of backstory that I don't want to get into right here and now but to make a long story short: Evil Loki died, and his younger not evil self is resurrected and blah blah blah he works for his mom trying to right his wrongs, gets and apartment in New York, and meets Verity who--do to the fact she swallowed a magic ring as a baby-- can see through any lie.
> 
> Also, here's an article on the Viking diet that I'm using as a reference:
> 
> http://www.history.com/news/hungry-history/the-surprisingly-sufficient-viking-diet


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